


The Saints of Your Abandon

by hardlyawake



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drug Use, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Moderate depictions of violence, No Incest, Reginald Hargreeves is an alien like in the comics, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Vanya discovers her powers AU, because it's klaus, brief somewhat graphic description of violence, but it's like one sentence, depictions of drugs, they're 16 in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23210704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardlyawake/pseuds/hardlyawake
Summary: “Pogo, it was an accident, I--” Vanya’s talking around tears that are coming down too fast. “I’m sorry, I’m so--”She’s interrupted by a muffled moan coming from the ground, and Pogo makes a shushing motion at her. It’s Reginald, alive.-An AU where Ben dies at age 16. Vanya gets into an altercation with Reginald where she sees something she shouldn't, and runs away from home.
Comments: 16
Kudos: 108





	1. run away, little girl

Vanya remembers the day it happened.

It was the end of August, a hot day when the entire city was awake and oblivious. Father always said that when people were preoccupied with frivolous entertainment, the true villains started to come out from the woodwork.

She remembers her brothers and sister leaving for the carnival, being warned loudly by their father as they left. One of their biggest threats yet. He’d said that before.

Vanya was studying history, trying to block out the annoyingly loud blare of their mission alarm. Trying to make sure she was ready for the homeschooling exams, praying she’d score well enough to graduate, get into a school far away and never have to see the academy again.

She remembers seeing Ben race past her door, clearly trying to find a missing part of his gear. She thinks she called out “Good luck!”, but it’s hard to remember exactly. Maybe she didn’t. She only ever said it to Ben, and maybe Allison. Everyone else always ignored her.

Then there’s a few hours in between, of soaking up knowledge about the Cold War and communism. Mom knocking on her door and bringing her a snack.

Ironically enough, the breaking of the news is the part she remembers the least. From the moment her siblings came through the front door, everything seemed to happen in a flash. She rolled her eyes at the commotion at first, thinking it was just them being obnoxious as usual.

But a few seconds later, she heard the sound of Allison wailing and knew something wasn’t right. Allison didn’t cry after missions.

Vanya had quietly stepped out of her room, approached the stair-landing above the living room. Mom was in her nurse uniform, helping to carry one of her siblings with Reginald. Vanya’s eyes scanned over the group of uniformed family standing there, all trying to talk over each other. Luther begging to help, and Reginald shutting him down as he hurried down the corridor and shouted for Pogo.

Klaus, Allison, Diego, Luther...Ben. Ben was hurt. Vanya had rushed downstairs, desperately asking everyone what had happened. She saw the trail of blood along the floor where Ben had been taken away.

Waiting in the living room for what was either thirty minutes or an eternity. And then he was gone.

That was two weeks ago to the day. Vanya glares at her reflection in the mirror, eyes settling on the ruffled black dress. A non-uniform piece of clothing she normally would’ve given anything to wear, but now all she could think of was how she wished she didn’t have it. She wished none of her siblings were wearing funeral attire, that things could just go back to the shitty way they were before.

Allison knocks on her door for the third time that morning. Vanya looks at her, but says nothing. Her sister is wearing a black dress too, with a small matching coat.

Allison must still be expecting her to talk, because she sighs after a few moments of silence. Vanya can’t bring herself to feel guilty; not when they were all there when it happened. Finally, though, instead of trying to get Vanya to open up, Allison says, “We’re leaving in five.”

And the miserable Hargreeves unlucky enough to make it this far pile into a black limousine, headed for their brother’s funeral.

\----

Vanya passes the two weeks after that entirely in her bedroom. Some days she stays under the covers for hours. She refuses to come back out for breakfast in the mornings, a single act of rebellion her father stops bothering to correct. Maybe the coldhearted bastard has found a drop of sympathy in his heart, seeing as how he reduced the training time for all her siblings to half. 

On some days, she hears Diego shout and say he won’t come. Hears her father fruitlessly trying to get the attention of a much too faded Klaus. Hears Allison just one room over, obsessively murmuring the same rumor over and over again to herself, trying to bring Ben back. On those days there’s no training at all, just a quiet, broken house.

Vanya still studies for her graduation, harder than ever before. She throws herself into her books and her violin music, nailing a piece she’d been struggling with for years in the span of a week. She eats the food that Mom brings to her room, selectively ignoring the questions like “Don’t you think it’s a perfect day for a walk, Vanya dear?”

Allison still comes by and tries to talk to her at night. Vanya can’t bring herself to keep a conversation, too depressed and too bitter to say much more than a few words. She knows she should be thankful someone isn’t treating her like the scum of the earth, thankful Allison is trying to connect. She knows that, but she can’t make it a reality. Not when Allison is one of the siblings who was there the day it happened.

Eventually, though, the heartless king resumes his reign and Vanya is warned of dire consequences if she doesn’t accompany them at the next breakfast. She complies that morning, sitting at the head of the table with two empty spaces beside her, where Five and Ben used to sit. Separated from the rest of her siblings, fittingly.

Reginald seems to come back with a vengeance. Training resumes its regular sessions, Klaus disappears for hours at night and comes back looking more vacant than ever before, smelling of death. Vanya takes her exams and returns to a strict studying schedule, though she’s already weeks ahead from her time in isolation.

Everything is fine, in the worst sense of the word, until Reginald makes an announcement one morning at breakfast. 

As soon as they’re done, Vanya races straight to Allison’s room. Dignity be damned.

“How can he?!” She snaps, and Allison is nodding. 

“That asshole is going to build a statue and--” her voice hitches, but she continues “And give away his shit and Ben hasn’t even been gone for a _month,_ Allison.”

Allison gives her best effort at being comforting, they hug for maybe the second time ever, but it seems like it still hasn’t set in for anyone but Vanya. For once in her life, Number Seven isn’t going to let it stand.

She lets the day pass, cycles through her routine of violin and math and history. She waits after dinner, when everyone has retired to their rooms. Waits until she hears her father’s footsteps on the stairs, finally returning from his study. She climbs out of bed, opens her door without a sound, and follows her father all the way to the surveillance room.

The confrontation doesn’t go as planned. 

Reginald is hunched over the desk the screens sit upon, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. Vanya feels a sense of foreboding, screaming at her to turn back, but she swallows it down and steps into the room. She clears her throat.

Reginald seems almost spooked, whirling around with a look of shock. 

“Number Seven,” he admonishes immediately, “What are you doing out of bed?”

She inhales deeply, squaring her small shoulders. “I want to talk about Ben.”

Reginald takes a moment to consider this, then narrows his eyes. “Then talk with your brothers and sister, at a reasonable hour. Back to bed.”

As usual, there’s no room for argument in his tone. Vanya pushes anyway.

“I don’t think you should build the statue.” She says, meeting his stare. “Or give away Ben’s things.”

“And why is that?” He asks tiredly, as though he knows what’s coming next.

“He hasn’t been gone that long,” Vanya replies, voice faltering a bit. “He...he just--”

“Might come back?” Her father fills in coldly.

Vanya doesn’t have to nod for him to know he hit the nail on the head.

“Number Seven, I’m going to be frank with you.” Reginald says, standing up straight. Vanya feels her stomach drop as he adjusts his monocle. “I have tolerated your childish endeavors for years now, in the hopes that you might finally see reality and mature. Clearly, I was mistaken in doing so. Listen to me well, as I will only say this once.”

Reginald takes a small step towards her, and Vanya feels frozen in place.

“Your brothers are gone. There will be no more sandwich-making, no more leaving the lights on, no more skipping meal times with your siblings. You will behave, or you will not see a cent of money for your tuition.”

Vanya feels herself trembling a bit, trying desperately to not cry in front of her father. She doesn’t say a word.

Reginald seems satisfied. He steps back, resuming his task with the notepad. “For your insolence, Number Seven, you may help with the statue’s construction. Off to bed.”

Vanya feels something click inside her. Her feet don’t feel stuck to the floor anymore, and she assembles her last shred of emotional stability to respond with a clear and even “No.”

“Seven.” Reginald warns, turning back around. 

“Ben wouldn’t be dead if it wasn’t for you,” She spits, before she can think to stop herself. For once in her life, she sounds like a normal, upset teenage girl. “You ruin _everything_ and make everyone hate each other!”

It’s small. So, so incredibly small for an angsty teenage outburst. So little of what she actually wants to say. But it’s enough.

Reginald doesn’t hesitate to take things into his own hands, grabbing Vanya by the wrist with the intent to force her back to her room. Of course he has no issue going after the one kid in the house not trained in self-defense.

Vanya makes up for her lack of tact with pure, streamlined anger. She tugs back harshly, and, when his grip doesn’t budge, kicks her adoptive father in the shins and swings her elbow up at his face. She doesn’t truly know what she’s trying to accomplish, just that she doesn’t want him to be touching her.

Reginald swears, and it’s a foreign sound to Vanya’s ears. When she looks up from shielding her face, he’s swaggering backwards.

She isn’t thinking. She impulsively pushes him, still so, so angry, and he falls back against the control boards. There’s a _crack_ noise, and she looks down in horror to see his head twisted in a way it definitely shouldn’t be.

She freezes again, only for a moment. Then she’s gasping, “Dad?”

Reginald doesn’t answer. She knows if he could hear her, he would be telling her not to call him that. He can’t hear her.

“Dad!” She exclaims again, kneeling down to the ground. 

There’s the sound of footsteps from the hallway, then a startled gasp in the doorway. Vanya turns around desperately, eyes wide with fear and beginning to water.

“Pogo,” She says quietly. 

The monkey is rushing into the room before she has time to say anything else. Vanya stands up and out of the way without being told, covering her mouth with her hands and listening to Pogo try to talk to her father.

“Pogo, it was an accident, I--” Vanya’s talking around tears that are coming down too fast. “I’m sorry, I’m so--”

She’s interrupted by a muffled moan coming from the ground, and Pogo makes a shushing motion at her. It’s Reginald, alive.

“Dad?” She repeats, quietly again. She isn’t sure she actually wants him to see her.

Pogo shushes her again, more urgently, and presses his hand to Reginald’s forehead. Reginald asks where he is, what’s happening. Vanya finds herself backing up towards the door, inch by inch.

“You’re alright, Sir.” She hears Pogo say. “You had a fall. You just need to rest.”

Her father’s head falls back to the floor, soon accompanied by the sound of a light snore. Pogo rises from the ground and meets Vanya just outside the room, staring up at the girl still clutching her face in shock and horror and a billion other emotions.

Eventually, though, she looks back down at Pogo and swipes away a tear. “He’s okay,” She whispers, sounding exactly the opposite of relieved. “Pogo, how can he be okay? I saw him, I saw his neck snap.” She’s whisper-yelling now, and her voice hitches on the word _neck_ , and she can feel herself start to hyperventilate.

“Miss Vanya,” Pogo says urgently, touching her crossed arms reassuringly, “Miss Vanya, breathe. It’s alright.”

She glances back at the surveillance room, at her father’s sleeping body on the floor, and shakes her head. “It’s not alright, Pogo. I don’t understand.” She takes a shaky, ragged breath and hates the sound. “He’s going to be so mad at me, he’s gonna kill me--”

“Miss Vanya, listen to me,” Pogo pleads, “Your father will recover. He’s unconscious now, but he may only stay that way for an hour.”

Vanya meets Pogo’s eyes, staring desperately and still trying to comprehend the situation.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Pogo asks, and it dawns on her.

She wants to say _No_ , tell him that she doesn’t want to leave, tell him that she must be seeing things. Instead, she nods. Tears still running down her face, she nods furiously and Pogo nods in return.

“Your father fell against the camera monitors,” Pogo says, as if to himself. “Perhaps the footage from the fire escape was interrupted for a moment.” There’s the same hinting tone in his voice as before. Then, he returns to Reginald’s side to tend to the injured man.

Vanya races back to her room, opening and shutting her door as quietly as possible. She doesn’t even allow herself to think of what would happen if anyone woke up. She turns her lamp on, scans her room to look for something she could use.

She finds an oversized knapsack in her closet, and stuffs it with a coat, socks, underwear. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror. _Shit_ , she thinks. _Can’t leave in pajamas_.

She changes into her academy uniform, and shoves her pajamas in the knapsack too. She finds her savings, tucked beneath the mattress, and puts the bundle of cash in there too. Then tugging on shoes, turning the lamp off, and opening her window. 

She cringes at the loud creaking noise, but swings her leg out anyways. Her foot touches the fire escape, and she inhales deeply as she swings the other one out too and hauls her knapsack out with her. 

The window shuts just as loudly, and then it’s just her, alone in the dark. It’s a cold night.

She climbs carefully down to the asphalt below, and can hear the commotion from the house of people waking up. She doesn’t need any more motivation than that to start running as fast as she can, through the alleyways and past Gritty’s donut shop. It’s a familiar enough maze for her, even in the dark; she and her siblings used to sneak out to grab a donut, or explore during their half-hour of “fun and games” on Saturday.

She knows exactly where she’s going by the time she passes 14th street. All she needs is a place to hide out, away from security cameras and traffic. She knows just the place.

Vanya turns and runs out into an undeveloped plot of land, stretching out just before the city’s grimy river. She prays it’s still there. For a moment, she doesn’t think it will be.

But sure enough, the dilapidated old shed comes into view, a few yards uphill of the river. She might feel nostalgic if the circumstances were different, seeing the site of their old “clubhouse”. When they were really little, they were allowed more time to play. She can still remember little Luther fitting everyone into the shed and pretending to call a “family meeting”. Vanya was still included then, before they really came to understand the concept of her being ordinary.

She sloughs her knapsack of her shoulders and pulls on the shed’s rusty doorknob, saying another silent prayer. To her relief, the door creaks open and reveals a small, dark interior. She tosses her knapsack inside, wrinkling her nose at the familiar smell of cigarettes emanating from the shed. 

She regrets not bringing a flashlight, but it’s too late for that. She goes to sit down, but her eye catches some movement in the space and she freezes. There’s someone in there.

The obscured body sits up, fumbles for something to its side, and suddenly the room is filled with dim light from a lantern. 

Vanya’s jaw drops, seeing the figure staring back at her. “Klaus?”

Her brother fixes her with a similar look of disbelief, sitting up straighter and letting a ratty blanket fall from his shoulders. His eyes are bloodshot and watery, and he stares ahead with constricted pupils. “Vanya? What are you doing here?”


	2. from the river to the street

Vanya closes her mouth, and blinks a few times to make sure she’s really seeing reality.

“Klaus,” She says again.

“Sister.” Klaus counters. “Are you really here or am I just high?”

Vanya glances around the abysmally lit shed, noticing the plastic baggies of white powder and crushed-up crystals stashed in the corner. “I’m here.” She manages shakily.

“Well close the door then.” Klaus responds plainly. He covers his mouth and yawns.

Vanya complies, quickly kneeling down besides her brother in the small space. Her heart is still racing from sprinting, and she has no doubt her face is still puffy and red from seeing her father’s neck snap.

Klaus doesn’t miss that, despite his clearly sleep and drug-addled brain. He’s looking her over analytically, like she’s an animal displaying some kind of rare behavior. It’s not so far from the truth; he’s never seen her in this state before, all panicky and action-driven. Vanya was always quiet, curled into herself, subdued.

“Shit.” He finally says aloud, summarizing the whole situation pretty well. “What did you do?”

Vanya’s breathing quickens even more at this, and she trembles a bit as she turns to Klaus. “I-- um,” She stutters, “I..I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ooo- _ kay _ ,” Klaus replies hesitantly, raising his eyebrows. He shifts more upright and leans his back against the wall. “I show you mine, you show me yours situation?”

“ _ What _ ?” Vanya breathes, looking at him incredulously. 

“You wanna know why I’m here first,” Klaus surmises.

Vanya lets her eyes wander the shed again, taking in the “goodies” littering the floor and the odd posters plastered to the inside walls. One image of a half-dressed man was clearly torn out of a magazine, then plastered to the unpainted wall with scotch tape. Her eyes travel back up to Klaus, so obviously high. Maybe he won’t even remember the conversation.

“Sure,” she replies. “Tell me why you’re hiding out in our childhood clubhouse.” She rakes a hand through her hair in exasperation, but she can’t deny the small presence of concern down below. They’re all worried for Klaus, all the time. But it’s become another feeling they’ve learned to keep at bay. To keep it quiet and buried, lest it grow so big it devours them.

“Training.” Klaus answers. He stares straight down. “Dad locks me in the mausoleum still.”

An uncomfortable silence fills the air for a few moments. Vanya isn’t shocked, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care. There are just only so many things you can say in response to that particular sentence.

“He stopped for a while,” Her brother says softly. “When I was fifteen. He laid off me for almost a whole year, ‘cept when I pissed him off.” He turns his head up and laughs dryly, perhaps expecting Vanya to join in.

She doesn’t.

“All the way,” Klaus continues, a smile still playing on his face, “Until Ben.”

His pupils shrink a little, and he stares ahead, suddenly hundreds of miles away.

  
“I’m sorry,” Vanya quickly interjects, “You ’know what, we don’t have to talk about it if--”

Klaus shakes his head, then glances to his other side, at something Vanya can’t see. Finally he turns back to her. “It’s a weekly thing now,” He tells her simply, “But he can’t stop me from taking off when it’s over. I spend the rest of those nights in here.”

Klaus pauses, then holds up a baggy from beside him with a dazed smile, “With my best friends in the whole wide world.”

It’s a nickel-bag, distinct even in the poor lighting. Vanya suppresses a sigh.

“So, Vanya,” Klaus’s sing-songy voice draws her attention back to him. “How badly did  _ you _ fuck up?”

She can’t stand the fact that he’s somehow grinning. “You wouldn’t believe me.” She responds.

“Try me,” Klaus quips, sliding down onto his back lazily. “I’ll probably be too high to remember in the morning, anyways.”

Vanya has the brief thought that if there’s a God, he seems to have killed off her tolerable brothers first.

She ponders on how to explain her situation tactfully, and racks her mind for a rational explanation even though she knows there is none. But instead it spills out, like dirty water in a broken washing machine:

“I broke dad’s neck.”

And if there’s anything in the world that can get her brother’s attention, it’s that. His eyes widen and a surprised grin breaks out on his face. “Good for you.”

“It was an accident,” Vanya continues, feeling the anxiety return to her body. “We just -- we got into a fight, and then I pushed him and...”

Klaus is silent, not nearly as concerned as he should be, but at least he’s present. 

“But then, Pogo came in and he got back up and he was-- I mean he was hurt, but he was  _ alive _ , Klaus.” Her breathing is faster now, “But I know he was dead, for a few minutes, and.. and then he was breathing again.”

“So then you didn’t break his neck,” Klaus points out, a little condescending and a little disappointed. 

“No, Klaus, I did,” Vanya assures, “I heard the- the bones snap, and I saw his neck turn...” She trails off and looks a little green.

Klaus is still looking at her skeptically, through bloodshot eyes. “Maybe you didn’t hurt him as bad as you thought. No offense, Vanya, but you’re not exactly the pick of the litter here.”

His sister glances down at her admittedly scrawny form, and hesitates for a moment. But then she shakes her head with conviction. “I know what I saw, Klaus.”

Klaus seems to have reached his capacity for participatory conversation. Nonchalantly, he says, “Okie dokie.”

“Klaus.” 

“What?” He groans defensively. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Vanya replies with a heavy inhale, “Nothing, I just don’t know what  _ I’m _ supposed to do.”

“Breathe,” Klaus coaxes with a bit of agitation. “I don’t need vomit in here.”

Vanya shakes her head, then drops her head into her hands. “It’s my nerves.” She whips her head back up with wide eyes. “I forgot my meds.”

“Some sister you are,” Klaus responds. “Coming to my drug hut without any drugs.”

“Klaus, this is serious.” Vanya worries her lower lip and she looks close to tearing up again.

She’s met with a rare few moments of contemplative silence from her brother, before he sighs once again. “I’ll get em for you tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” She says.

There’s more, a hundred more questions and a cloud of anxiety in the corner of her mind, but for now it’s enough. 

“I’m not sharing my blanket,” Klaus mutters. He switches the lantern off and scoots over to make room for Vanya.

She shakes her head and lies down beside him, facing the barely visible wooden wall. Her heart isn’t racing anymore, but it feels foreign in her chest. It skips beats and she finds it hard to take a full breath.

But in a few minutes, Klaus is snoring beside her and it feels like the world has shrunken down to the dark, smoke-scented shed.

Maybe not the greatest reality, but one she can imagine herself in. One where nothing in the surveillance room just happened and she might wake up okay.

Vanya falls asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all, thank you for your patience and support. college at home has been stressful. hopefully the next chapter will be up much sooner! i'm on tumblr @writingfromrachel if you wanna chat. be safe!

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! Klaus and the other siblings will be much more present in the next chapters!  
> I know commenting is a pain, but I’ll love you forever if you tell me what you think. thank you!


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